So, yeah, this one is more PG-13 than the others. Actually, kind of alot more. You've been warned.
When Barraccus arrived at the house, he was surprised to find Quae there. She was equally surprised to see him, but accepted his explanation of a need to take a break without comment. She had gone back to Feralas, she explained, but had heard of a big storm coming through the area, and had returned to make sure everything was all right and fix or clean up whatever was needed. She had found a couple loose shingles on the roof, and Barraccus willingly volunteered to go up and fix them in the morning.
That night he dreamed again. It didn’t change much from the last time, but still it rattled him. He had half-hoped that since he hadn't had his dream every night while he was in Azeroth, maybe he would have some relief from it this time as well. Obviously he had been wrong. He was distracted all through the following day as he fixed the shingles, then helped Quae clean up some large branches that had fallen into the yard. As night fell, it hit him that he and Quae were alone there. He inquired after the others at supper that night, and she told him that they had all left shortly after he had, and were all still out wherever they had gone; she didn’t expect any of them to return anytime soon, which was why his arrival had so surprised her. She explained all that without her usual teasing, which made him wonder if something was wrong, but he decided if she didn't want to tell him, it was none of his business.
His dream changed suddenly that night. It started the way it had before, with the night elf and her two little ones, but slowly something dark and terrifying slipped into the dream. It was nothing visible, just a darkness hovering around the edges and a sense of fear throughout. Then the cradle was on its side, a blood-stained blanket peeking out. The little boy on her lap began crying silently, a look of such terror on his face that Barraccus couldn't imagine what he might be looking at. Then he too vanished, followed by the rest of the dream.
Barraccus floated in darkness for a little while before it gradually came back. The scenery had changed, becoming a field in an area he felt that he should know. The female night elf was crouching in the field, looking at him with sad eyes. In the next moment, she was suddenly covered in blood, and her mouth opened in an endless, silent scream. He sensed, more than saw, hundreds of shapes in the darkness around her, all closing in for the kill.
Barraccus awoke with a shout of fear and denial. He was drenched in sweat, the blanket twisted around him. Shaking from the shock of his dream, he straightened it out, then tried to lay back down. But he was far too uptight now. He sat up and wrapped the blanket around himself, then suddenly tears were streaming down his face. He knew that whoever the elf was, something horrible had happened to her and her young ones. But what? And why was he dreaming about her?
He heard a whisper of sound and then Quae was standing next to him. She looked at him for a moment, then sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He leaned against her as the tears continued running down his cheeks. Suddenly he had to say something. “They- they’re all dead,” he said softly. “I don’t know what killed them, but it was nothing I recall seeing before.” Quae grew alarmed, looking at him with wide eyes. “Who is dead?” she asked. “Not any of the others?” He shook his head. “No, it’s in my dreams. I’ve been having them every night since I went through the Dark Portal. There’s a female night elf and her two children. But something horrible happens to them, and I can’t see it clearly enough to tell what.” Quae sat in silent thought for a few minutes. “Could it be your memories returning?” she asked hesitantly. Barraccus shuddered. “If it is, I don’t think I want to know any more.”
Quae said nothing after that, she just sat with her arm still draped around him. Suddenly Barraccus was acutely aware of two things- they were alone in the house, and underneath her thin robe Quae was wearing as little as he was under his blanket. He tried to put the thought out of his head, but he could feel himself reacting to her nearness. It surprised him; being an undead, he hadn’t thought that he would feel such things anymore. He knew he should let her go back to bed, but he really didn't want her to leave yet, so he tried to ignore it. It didn’t work. He was aware of her in a way that was almost painful. He could feel the heat of her body, smell the mageroyal she used in her bath; he even thought he could hear her heart beating.
Finally he couldn't stand it any more, and gently pulled back from her. She did not get up and leave, but stayed sitting next to him, her hand coming to rest on his knee. He gently covered her hand with his, and then looked up at her face. “Q- Quae?” he said softly, and she looked up at him. Her eyes widened at the look on his face, her own expression changing several times. He saw surprise, nervousness, and a strange longing cross her face, though not fear. But then, she had never been afraid of him. Her expression calmed after a long minute, then she moved closer as he leaned toward her, and their lips met.
That kiss was like an electrical shock through his body. The world seemed to fade away, except for the two of them...
Much later, he finally fell asleep, listening to her breathing beside him. The dream did not return that night.